


Make Up

by rudbeckia



Series: Spookylux Huxloween 2018 [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Mild Horror, huxloween 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-15 16:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16066934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Huxloween day 2: Wigs & makeupPhasma’s getting ready for a Halloween party. Hux and Ben help her out with makeup and a pirate costume, but could there be a more obvious solution?





	Make Up

“Look, I can help.” Hux pushed the kitchen table flush with the wall and pointed at the kitchen chair nearest Phasma. “Sit there. Ben, can you bring the mirror from the wall in the hallway?”  
Phasma sat, oozing misery. Ben went out and came back with the mirror. He set the mirror’s edge on the table, propped up against the wall. Phasma wailed and covered her face with her hands.  
“I can’t go out like this!” She shook her head and a few blonde strands fell down her shoulders and coiled on the floor. “People will stare.”  
“Because you’re beautiful,” reassured Hux. “Tell you what, Ben will take the mirror away. Let me do your makeup and your hair for you and you can see it when I’m all done.” Hux waited while Ben laid the mirror face down on the table. “There. Safe to look. Now, show me that gorgeous baby blue.”  
Phasma looked up at Hux. Hux smiled. “Trust me?”  
She nodded. “Okay. Okay, I trust you.” She pointed at her face. “Fix this.”

Hux snapped on a pair of thin rubber gloves, hefted the DIY box onto the table and got to work. First came a foundation layer of bathroom sealant in a cool shade of ivory. Hux applied it with his fingers, smoothing out the cracks and hollows of Phasma’s face and building up her damaged cheekbone and orbit in layers. Next, as the sealant cured, he mixed eggshell paint remnants and tested the colour against his own skin tone. Once happy that he had a natural shade, he set it aside. Before he could apply colour and hope it would last, he roughened up the surface of the sealant slightly and applied a thin layer of matte magnolia undercoat.

“Hey that looks so good!” Ben said, peering through the doorway. He thrust something through the gap. “Look what I got!” Phasma gasped and reached out. Ben tossed the long, blonde wig into her hands. “It’s a bit matted, but I think it’ll look pretty good.”  
Hux stared at it. “Is that Maratelle’s?”  
“Was. It was Maratelle’s.” Ben shrugged. “She doesn’t need it since she never leaves the attic.” He smiled at Phasma and held his hand out. “Give it back and I’ll wash the bloodstains out.”  
Phasma handed the wig back to Ben. She turned to Hux. “Is it safe to smile yet?”  
Hux gently prodded the thickest layer of sealant around the damaged orbit of Phasma’s absent left eye. It gave and sprang back under his touch. “I should think so,” he said. “You’re going to be the sexiest pirate at the party. Think you’ll pull that pretty secretary you used to fancy?”  
“Unamo? No,” said phasma, shuddering. “You can build up the face but there are _issues_ with the bits that aren’t on display. I’m talking _internal liquefaction,_ Hux. Unamo deserves a girlfriend whose innards stay, well, inner.”  
Hux covered his ears and said _la-la-la_ until Phasma laughed and slapped his arm. Her hand caught on Hux’s sweater sleeve. She examined her fingers and pulled off a loosened fingernail, shrugging at the blackened nail bed beneath. Hux sighed. “You need to be more careful, Phas.”  
“Oh shush,” said Phasma. “I can stick on a false one.”

After another couple of hours, Hux stepped back and declared that his work was complete. He called for Ben, who appeared with the wig cleaned and dried and already styled into a tumble of shoulder length curls. Ben combed and sprayed what little remained of Phasma’s own hair and put the wig cap and the wig on her. Phasma tried a few careful, experimental tosses of her new mane and laughed in delight. Next, she raised the mirror and admired her glamorous, Dulux looks. Hux helped her set a black eye patch over her rebuilt but empty socket and offered her a dashing tricorn hat decorated with three black ostrich feathers.

Phasma stood and set her wooden crutch under her arm. Her lower left leg, never recovered from the fall and the inferno that killed her, ended in a wooden stump. She admired her pirate costume in the mirror and touched her crimson gloss lip with one greenish-grey fingertip that ended in a glossy black, plastic fingernail.  
“Thanks,” she said, voice thickening. “Really. Thanks, guys. This will probably have to be my last night out. Too many things are decaying and dropping off. Oh, I almost forgot. Do you have—“  
Ben brandished a perfume atomiser. She laughed, coughed and almost sobbed.

Ben and Hux waved Phasma off in her taxi then retreated inside for the clean up.  
“You know,” said Ben, stroking his chin. “I don’t know why she doesn’t just go dressed as a zombie.”


End file.
